


Found Home

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Category: Supernatural
Genre: CPS Worker Sam, Child Councelor Eileen, F/M, Firefighter Benny, Firefighter Dean, Firefighter Meg, Foster Care, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-14 22:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13600002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: Sam loves his job as a CPS worked, even when it’s really hard. Sometimes he has the perk of working with a lovely single foster mom named Eileen.Art bymooseinaboot





	Found Home

The call comes late at night-so late it’s practically considered morning. The hardest ones usually do.

Sam rolls himself out of bed, throws on the clothes he had set out for the morning, and shoves his feet in some boots that are bordering on too old. He slips from the house as quietly as possible, doing his best not to wake Dean, Cas, and Meg. Though the building is big enough that he could probably bang some pots and pans together in the kitchen an not bother them, he still waits to put on his shoes until he gets to the from door, his socked feet near silent on the hardwood floors. Dean and Meg just came off a twenty-four hour shift that was mostly action and they’re pretty beat. Cas likes to stay up while they are working so their schedules are more aligned when the two firefighters come home. All three of the lovers need their sleep.

He goes straight to the scene, finding the slightly run-down house surrounded by police cars and an ambulance. His stomach twists at the sight of the red and blue flashing lights in the cool fall night, but no one seems to be in a hurry to go anywhere, and that eases his worries.

“Hi, Jo,” he says, smiling at the petite blonde police officer. “How are you?”

“Tired and missing my wife,” Jo says honestly, like always, brushing back a few stray hairs that have escaped her tight bun.

“How’s Charlie doing?” Sam asks as she leads the way to the house. Charlie is Jo’s very pregnant wife and one of Sam’s closest friends whom he hasn’t seen in a while.

“She’s as good as can be expected. Big as a house, but still right on schedule. I think we’ve gotten past the worst of the cravings and morning sickness, too, which is good for me. Now it’s all swollen feet and old lady pains and things that lady parts should never do.”

Jo smirks in spite of her reality and Sam just chuckles at the mild overshare. The old wood of the porch steps creak dangerously under his shoes as he and Jo climb the few steps. The sound stills his heart while he makes it up them, but he sighs a breath of relief to find that it holds. “What can you tell me about this situation?”

Jo pushes the front door open. “Two boys. Their dad is a drunk, came home swinging and the neighbors called 911. They’re new to town but he’s got a record from across a few other states. Domestic disturbance, drunk and disorderly, a DUI in Texas, the usual. The father’s already in custody but we can’t get the boys to come out on their own and you know we’re not allowed to touch them until you say. Think you could get them out?”

“I’ll do my best. Where are they in the home?”

“Under the older boy’s bed, in their bedroom. Down there.” She gestures to the door at the end of a short hall. “As soon as Gadreel had the father under control, the older boy took off to his brother.”

“Names?”

“The older brother is Anthony; the younger is Malcolm.”

Sam nods. “Anthony and Malcolm. Stay here. I’ll see what I can do. Wish me luck.”

The room is dark and Sam leaves it that way so as not to upset the delicate situation. He can hear faint sniffling from under the bed closest to the door. He’s been in far too many rooms like these in his time, but he knows immediately that the older brother chose the bed closer to the door on purpose- so he could put himself between his little brother and any potential danger. Dean used to do the same thing.

The light from the hall doesn’t reach underneath the bed, but Sam doesn’t need to see them to know they’re under there. He sits on the edge of the other bed, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Hi, guys,” he says quietly. “Anthony and Malcolm, right?”

There’s no response, but he wasn’t expecting one. The sniffling gets quieter.

“My name is Sam. I work in Child Protective Services. I know that sounds scary, but I’m here to help. I just want to talk with you guys. Can we talk?”

“You people never just want to talk,” a small voice snaps.

“Yeah, I get that,” Sam says with a soft laugh. He slides down to the floor, slowly. Like any wild animal, he’s careful not to spook the kids hiding from him and seemingly everyone else. He still can’t see the boys, but he knows they can see him. Hopefully they decide they can trust him, at least for the moment. “Your name is Anthony, right? Can I call you Tony? Or do you prefer Anthony?”

A moment of silence, and then the quiet voice pipes up again, “Tony is okay. And he likes Mal.”

“Alright. Tony and Mal. How old are you guys?”

“I’m eight. Mal is four.”

Sam smiles. “My big brother is four years older than me, too.”

“You have a big brother?”

“I do. His name is Dean. I think you would like him. He’s a firefighter.” Sam stretches out one leg, slouching so he can see under the bed a little better. “Do you guys want to come out?”

“You’ll just take Mal away.”

Tony’s words are like a knife in Sam’s heart. He knows exactly how scared the boys are- he’s been there himself, though it was a very long time ago. These boys depend on each other. They’re all they have ever had, through however many homes they’ve stayed in and however many nights they’ve experienced that were just like this one. He has a feeling Tony’s been separated from Mal before, a thought that makes him sick to his stomach. He remembers being separated from Dean once and it was the worst few days of his childhood. He can’t let that happen to these boys. “I won’t, Tony. I promise. I’m here to help in whatever way I can. I want to get you guys somewhere safe. Can I help you with that? Is that okay?”

He hears some rustling, and then a small boy emerges from under the bed, all messy black hair and big glasses over dark eyes and knobby knees. Sam waits while Tony studies him, looking him over with a seriousness he’s only seen on one other face. Seemingly satisfied with what he sees, he bends down and helps an even smaller boy out. Malcolm is on the tail end of the chubby toddler stage, and his big eyes and curly hair would make it easy to place him if he was on his own. Tony, Sam knows, will be more difficult. The older a kid gets, the fewer people are willing to take them. Hopefully he can find someone who would be willing to take them both. If not, he’s more than willing to take them himself, though that’s discouraged. Not banned by his office, but definitely discouraged.

“Hi,” Sam says. “Are you guys okay?”

Mal shakes his head before Tony can respond. “Tony has an owie.”

Tony scowls but holds out his arm so Sam can see the finger-shaped bruises on his forearm. Sam nods.

“We should have one of the paramedics look at those,” Sam tells him. “Will you come with me?”

Mal nods, grabbing onto two fingers of Sam’s outstretched hand. Tony hesitates, but takes Sam’s other hand. Sam gets up and smiles at the wide eyes of the boys. Sometimes his height can be shocking to the kids, but he does his best to seem smaller than he actually is.

Jo is waiting by the front door. She smiles when she sees the three of them.

“Hi, guys,” she says, crouching down to their level, hands braced on her knees. “I’m Officer Harvelle. Can one of the paramedics look at you guys?”

“You’re a powiceman!” Mal says excitedly, holding tight to Sam’s fingers.

“I am,” Jo agrees with a light smile. “What’s your name?”

“Mal,” the toddler says brightly. “That’s Tony.” He points at his big brother.

“Hi, Tony,” Jo says gently, shaking his little hand in hers. She observes the bruises on his arms and her eyes flit toward Mal, scanning his exposed skin for any wounds, finding none. She’s almost too good, and Sam smiles down at her when she squeezes Tony’s hand a little and tells him, “You did a really good job protecting your brother.”

“That’s my job,” Tony says quietly, tucking himself behind Sam’s leg a little.

“You’re good at it. Will you let the paramedics in the ambulance check on you? Maybe they’ll let you play with the siren.”

“Siren?” Tony brightens a little at that.

Sam relaxes and guides them outside. Both shy back at the sight of all the flashing lights and Sam waits until they relax before continuing down the steps. The other police officers stay out of the way, allowing Sam to take the boys straight to the ambulance where the paramedics are waiting.

“Hi, guys!” a short, dirty-blonde man in a paramedic uniform is sitting on the bumper. “I’m Gabriel.”

Sam introduces the boys and gets them settled with Gabriel, then backs off a bit to let the paramedic work. His partner is a girl Sam doesn’t recognize, but he knows she’s just a temporary transfer until Charlie returns to work after the baby is born.

“Do you two want to ride in the ambulance to the hospital?” Gabriel asks, patting down the Band-Aid he just wrapped around Mal’s tiny wrist, matching the one covering some scratches Sam hadn’t noticed on Tony’s. Mal insisted on matching his brother, even though he doesn’t need it. “We can turn on the siren.”

Tony bites his lip, swinging his legs where they’re dangling off the bumper. “Can… can Sam come with us?”

Gabriel grins knowingly. “Of course. Come on, Sam. Let’s get going!”

Sam hands his keys over to Jo so she can bring his car to the hospital and hoists himself into the back of the ambulance, the plastic-padded seats squeaking a little as he situates himself. “Ready?” he asks, sitting with them on the bench and letting Mal climb into his lap.

“Weady,” Mal proclaims, wiggling excitedly.

Gabe gets into the front seat and turns on the siren. “Here we go!”

* * *

 

After the boys are thoroughly checked over at the hospital- x-rays and all- they go to Sam’s office across the street. The boys cuddle up on the couch he keeps there- for naps, really, but no one but his receptionist knows that. Tony flips through one of the books from his shelf of kid-appropriate reading material. Mal curls against his brother’s side and is asleep in minutes. Sam knows Tony won’t sleep until he knows they’re safe or he can’t possibly hold it off any longer. Dean was always the same way.

Around six in the morning, Sam gets the call that their father is being charged with child abuse, a DUI, and some drunk and disorderly charges courtesy of the bartender at the bar he was at before he drove home. In addition, he apparently has a warrant out for his arrest from few states over, which significantly decreases his chances of being anywhere near his kids anytime soon. Sam immediately searches for any family who could take the boys and he’s not surprised when he comes up empty. Once it’s determined that there is absolutely no known relative to take the kids, he starts working his way through his list of available, qualified foster parents. He knows it’ll be tricky to find someone willing to take not one, but two boys on such short notice, and he’s not wrong. None of the foster parents he talks to are willing to take such a high risk pair, even though their father is in police custody, and especially not on such short notice.

Ruby comes in at eight. She brings coffee for Sam and breakfast sandwiches from McDonald’s for the whole group, and Sam could kiss her if she wasn’t happily married to Cas’ sister, Anna.

“I’ve rescheduled all your meetings for today so you can get these guys situated,” she tells him, helping Tony clear off part of Sam’s desk so the brothers have somewhere to eat their food.

“Thanks, Ruby,” Sam sighs, watching Tony help Mal get his breakfast set up the way the younger boy wants it. “You’re the best. You can go home whenever you’re done filing the papers from this morning.”

“Sounds good to me.”

* * *

 

After breakfast, Sam gives the boys papers and crayons to color with. He can hear his coworkers chatting with each other outside his office, but keeps his door closed. He doesn’t want the sounds of strangers to overwhelm either of the boys.

He makes sure the boys are settled before returning to the task at hand- placing them. He pulls up his list of names, some of them already crossed out, and stares at it. He goes over each name in his head, one by one, before coming to a conclusion.

Sam pulls up Skype on his computer and places the call. She should be in her office by now. She likes to keep a regular schedule at her office, being a children’s counselor. A regular schedule is easier on the kids.

Sure enough, the call only rings twice before she answers.

 _Hi, Sam,_ the brunette woman on the other end of the screen signs to him.

Sam smiles at the sight of her. _Hi, Eileen,_ he replies. _How are you?_

 _Better now that I’m talking to you,_ she jokes _. What can I do for you?_

_I have a couple of boys I’m trying to place and I thought of you. Would you like to come over and meet them?_

She lights up and silently squeals. _Yes! I have an appointment this morning, but I can be there at nine thirty. Does that work?_

 _That works great_ , he tells her. _I’ll see you then!_

They end the call and Sam sits back in his chair, feeling very good about himself. He knows Eileen will love the boys and they’ll love her.

* * *

 

At nine thirty, there’s a knock on his office door. The boys are watching a video on Sam’s phone, but Tony snaps to attention. He looks to Sam and relaxes a little when he sees that Sam is calm.

“Come in,” Sam calls, sitting back in his desk chair.

Eileen looks just as lovely as she always does, dressed in a soft purple blouse and black slacks. Her hair is curled this morning, gentle waves that frame her face. Sam tells his heart to calm down.

“Hey,” he says, getting up and rounding the desk to hug her. “Glad you could come.”

“I’m glad you called me.” She signs while she talks, stepping back so she doesn’t have to tilt her head as far to see his face when he speaks.

“These are the boys,” Sam says, gesturing to the brothers. “Tony, Mal, this is Eileen. She would like to be your foster mom for as long as you need one. Do you guys know what that means?”

“Nothing good,” Tony grumbles, keeping a tight hold on his brother and looking at Eileen with a wariness Sam understands.

Sam’s not sure what experiences they’ve had with foster homes, but he has a feeling they weren’t the best. “No, that’s not it at all. Eileen just wants to take care of you two. Come over here, get to know her. Please?”

Tony sighs but pauses the video Malcolm is still glued to and pulls his brother over to stand by Sam. Eileen immediately gets down on their level.

“Hi, guys,” she says brightly. “I’m Eileen. What are your names?”

“I’m Tony. Tony Rollans. This is my little brother, Malcolm. Why do you talk like that?”

Sam opens his mouth to correct the boy, but Eileen holds up a hand to stop him.

“I talk like this because I’m Deaf,” she explains. “I can’t hear. My ears don’t work.”

“How do you know what we’re saying?” Tony asks.

“I can read your lips. That means I can see what words you're saying by looking at the way your mouth moves.”

“Whoa!” Tony’s eyes are big. “That’s so cool!”

Eileen laughs. “Yeah, I guess it is pretty cool. I can also talk with my hands.”

“With your hands?” Mal butts in.

She nods and quickly signs, _Good morning. How are you today?_

Sam chuckles at the awed expressions on the boys’ faces. Eileen continues interacting with them, patiently teaching them what the basic signs mean and how to do each one. The brothers soon get distracted signing the phrase back and forth to each other. Eileen straightens up.

 _I’ll take them,_ she tells Sam. _If they want to come home with me, they can._

 _Alright,_  Sam replies. _You ask them. I’ll get the paperwork._

He pulls open the top drawer of his filing cabinet and quickly finds the papers he needs. Eileen crouches down again, getting the boys’ attention.

“Do you guys want to come live with me?” she asks.

Tony looks hesitant. “I dunno. What’s your house like?”

“Well,” she says, sitting forward onto her knees. “It’s got three bedrooms, so you and Malcolm can share if you want or have your own rooms. There’s a big yard you can play in. It’s by a park, so we can take walks. It’s close to your school, so you guys don’t have to change schools.”

“That sounds nice,” Tony says slowly. “We can share a room?”

“If that’s what you want.”

Tony bites his lip and looks down at Mal. “What do you think, Mal?”

The toddler is nodding. “I wike her. She’s nice.”

“I like her, too. Do you want to go live with her?”

“Uh-huh!” Mal bounces up on his toes, arms swinging a little.

“Okay,” Tony says seriously, turning back to Eileen. “We’ll live with you.”

* * *

 

The boys don’t have much to move. Sam and Eileen help them get everything they want packed up and into the back of Sam’s car. They’ve already been by the house and Sam had to help move one of the beds into the other bedroom so they could share, but it’s worth it.

Now he’s driving them back to Eileen’s place, trying not to show how mad he is at the lack of material possessions the boys have. Malcolm is sleeping against Tony’s side in the back, chubby arm wrapped around a well-worn stuffed bunny Sam has a feeling was a hand-me-down from his brother. In fact, all of Mal’s toys and clothes are hand-me-downs. He knows Eileen noticed this as well and he knows she’s going to be buying them both some stuff of their own the first chance she gets.

Once everything is settled in their new room, Tony crashes hard. Sam knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Malcolm is already asleep on the other bed- the poor kid is worn out and his schedule is all thrown off. Sam has a feeling he’s going to be up late tonight.

 _Coffee?_ Eileen asks him, making sure the bedroom door is open a few inches when they leave the room.

_Yes, please. I’m going to be running on caffeine all day._

She laughs, a soft sound he’s always enjoyed. _You’re the one who volunteered to be on call this week._

_Yeah, I did and I’m going to regret it. My sleep schedule is shot._

__

He takes a seat at the bar on one side of the island in her kitchen, resting his feet on the ring of the stool, and watches her get mugs from the cupboard and fill them with the coffee she made while Sam was finishing up with the boys. She slides his mug across the counter to him and adds her prefered amount of milk to her own mug. She looks beautiful, leaning against the counter with her hip and sipping carefully from her coffee. Her long brown hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders and Sam wants to put his hands in it, tuck it behind her ears and bury his face there to feel it tickle his nose. The scene is just so domestic, really, and he loves every bit of it.

 _Thank you for taking them,_ he says. _No one else wanted them._

 _Well, they don’t know what they’re missing out on,_ she replies. _Those are wonderful boys in there._

_I think they’re going to do really well here. I hope they do. Their father is no good- reminds me of my own, to be honest- and is probably going to spend some time in jail._

Eileen nods. _So who knows how long the boys will be here._

_Exactly._

_Well,_ she says decisively. _It’s a good thing I’m flexible._

* * *

 

Eileen leans against the doorway of the boys’ room. Sam had to return to the office, but he’ll probably be by sometime in the next week to make sure that everyone is settling in well. Tony is still asleep and, based off what Sam told her, will be asleep for a while longer. Mal is quietly playing with his meager toys on his bed. She’s impressed by how careful he is to not wake up his brother, even going so far as to double check every now and then that Tony is still asleep, especially after he drops one of his toy cars onto another. That must make some kind of loud noise, because he freezes until he can see that Tony hasn’t woken.

Mal runs one car along his leg and looks up to see Eileen. He waves. She smiles and waves back.

 _How are you?_ She asks.

He lights up and sets his toys aside. Moving carefully, he climbs off his bed and makes his way over to her. He glances back at Tony before grabbing her hand and tugging her into the hallway.

“Show me mowe?” he asks, pulling her down to sit on the floor beside him.

“Of course,” she says, keeping her voice low so as not to bother Tony. “When I ask how you are, you can say good-” she demonstrates the sign- “or bad-” she shows him this sign as well.

“Good,” he says, an adorable expression of concentration on his little face as he copies her movements with his little hands. “And bad.”

Eileen nods. “Just like that. So when I say,” she switches to signing: _How are you?_

Malcolm thinks for a moment, before signing _Good._

 _Good?_ She inquires.

He nods. “Yeah. I wike it here. It’s nice. I hope we can stay.”

“I hope you can stay, too,” Eileen tells him. “I hope Tony likes it here.”

“He will. He wikes what I wike.”

“He does, does he?” Eileen laughs softly. “That’s good to know.”

“Well, he doesn’t wike peanu’-banana sandwiches,” Mal says. “But I do.”

“You know who else likes peanut-banana sandwiches?” Eileen asks.

Mal perks up. “Who?”

“Sam.”

He gasps, in that adorable, dramatic four-year-old way. “ _Sam_ wikes peanu’-banana sandwiches?”

She nods. “He does. Maybe you can eat them with him.”

“When will Sam come visit?” Mal asks, bouncing a little as he does.

“Soon, I think. He had to go to work, but he’ll be back in a few days.”

“Good. I wike him.”

“I like him, too,” Eileen admits, having a good idea of what Mal said.

“You guys should get mawwied,” Mal declares in a way that shows how sure of himself this little boy can be when he decides what he wants.

“Married, huh?” she laughs. “Why do you say that?”

“‘Cause he wikes you,” Mal points out.

She lifts an eyebrow at him. “He likes me?”

“Oh yeah. He got really happy when you came today.”

Eileen blushes. “Oh.”

“He’s nice,” Mal says.

“He is very nice,” she admits. “We’ll see.”

* * *

 

Sam finds the first excuse he can to visit. The nice thing about having placed kids with Eileen is it gives him an opportunity to see her more often, and generally for a happier reason.

 _Everything going well?_ He asks, standing beside Eileen on her back patio. The boys are playing with a soccer ball on the lawn. It’s more a game of tag with a ball thrown in the mix, but they’re happy and laughing and have a light in their eyes that suits them, so Sam and Eileen leave it alone.

 _Everything’s going great,_ she answers. _The boys seem to be settling in well. Tony still has a hard time sleeping, but that’s to be expecting. He does best when he shares a bed with Mal. He seems to struggle with letting me be the parent._

Sam nods. _I can understand that. Dean was the same way._

 _He was?_ Her dark eyes are curious but careful.

_Tony reminds me of him- endlessly protective of his brother. I think Tony had to grow up the same way Dean did- being father, mother, and brother for Mal. It’s not going to be easy for him to get out of those habits._

_I figured. He’s very independent for a boy his age. It’s good that he has those skills, but I hate that he had to develop them so young._

_I know,_ Sam sighs. _I feel the same way about Dean._

“Sam!”

A tiny force barrels into his legs, almost knocking him over. Sam laughs, bending to scoop up the four-year-old who’s latched onto him.

“Hi, Mal,” he says cheerfully, settling the boy on his hip. “What’s up?”

“We’re playing soccow,” Mal tells him. “I’m winnin’.”

“You are, huh? Good job. Do you like living with Eileen?”

The toddler nods so hard it rocks his whole body. “Uh-huh! I like Eileen. She’s super nice. Look what she showed me!” he signs, in slightly fumbly motions, the first few letters of the alphabet.

“Wow! That’s great, Mal! Do you like signing?” Sam sets Mal down and lowers himself to sit beside him.

“Uh-huh. It’s fun.” Mal keeps signing the letters to himself until Tony comes over and invites him back onto the lawn to play.

Once the boys run off again, Sam levers himself off the ground and leans against the railing beside Eileen once more. _He’s learning fast,_ Sam observes.

_Languages are easier for children to learn. Their minds are still developing._

_Took me years to learn to sign._

_That’s usually the case for adults. You’re doing very good, though._

_Thanks,_ he says with a smile- one that stretches ear to ear and has Eileen’s cheeks warming. There’s a gleam in Sam’s hazel eyes, and it’s all too distracting. _I’m trying_ he finally signs back, seeming to break himself out of his own little daze.

_I appreciate it._

* * *

 

As the weeks go by and the brothers settle into a schedule. Eileen has a flexible schedule- perks of being in charge of her own office- so she’s able to schedule appointments for when the boys will be at school or extracurricular events. It’s a little tricky at first, because the boys don’t have the same schedule. Tony is in elementary school and Mal is still in preschool. Thankfully, the younger brother is very relaxed and more than happy to play behind her receptionist’s desk during appointments. Eileen doesn’t like to leave her foster children at home with a babysitter. Their trust is so fragile already- she does not want to risk damaging it any further.

“Can I help make dinner?” Tony asks every night, pulling himself up onto one of the barstools.

He’s still having a hard time accepting that Eileen will provide in that way, which she knows is because that was his job for so long. She’s also come to realize that Tony actually _enjoys_ cooking. He hasn’t had a lot of control over his own life, so food has become his way of expressing and creating. He’s told her about the strange concoctions he’s created because he had no option but to work with what he had.

“Alright,” she says every night. “Wash your hands and get your apron.”

Tony pulls the step stool over to the sink and washes his hands with a thoroughness she’s never seen in another kid his age. Then he gets his own apron from the bottom drawer by the stove and brings the stool over to stand beside Eileen at the counter.

“What’s Mal doing?” she asks.

He makes sure to be looking at her when he responds. “He’s playing with his cars, by the couch.”

Eileen glances over his shoulder and sure enough, there’s Mal sitting against the couch, toy cars in each hand. She smiles.

“Thank you, Tony. I’m making spaghetti and meatballs tonight. We’ll make the meatballs first. We have to mix everything in this bowl-” she taps the edge of the glass bowl with her nails- “and then we’ll make the balls and put them in the oven to cook.”

Tony nods, eyeing the ingredients lined up. Eileen opens the package of ground turkey, explaining why she uses turkey instead of ground beef. Once that’s broken up, Tony helps measure out all the seasonings. He cracks two eggs into the bowl like she tells him to, and then pours in the breadcrumbs she measures.

“Here, put some gloves on.”

She grabbed a box of extra small gloves for Tony when she was at the store. They’re a little big for him, but better than nothing. She personally doesn’t enjoy the feeling of raw meat or eggs, and gloves save on clean-up time.

Tony obediently dons his gloves, wiggling his fingers a bit before diving in. Together they get the ingredients well combined. Then Eileen shows him how big to make the meatballs. With two pairs of hands, they quickly get through the entire bowl.

The light on the oven display turns on and the little screen reads “Oven Ready” just as Tony finishes the last meatball.

“We’ll put these in the oven while we make the sauce and the noodles,” Eileen tells Tony. “I know you’re really good with ovens, but I would feel better if you let me do this. Can you stand back a little?”

“Okay,” he says, pulling the stool around the corner of the counter, well out of the way of the over. “Is this okay?”

“That’s perfect. Thank you, Tony.”

She sets a timer for twenty minutes. The first time the timer went off while the boys were in the house, they both freaked. She forgot to warn them that it doesn’t make noise, it just flashes a red light built into all the ceiling light fixtures. There’s a green light for the front door, a blue light for the microwave, and then the white light of the smoke detector in every room. The smoke detector light is the brightest, almost to the point of blinding, and it makes noise, loud enough to shake the house so that it will wake Eileen up if a fire starts while she’s asleep. Hopefully the boys never have to experience that.

* * *

 

Tony and Mal settle in quicker than Sam expected, but he’s definitely not going to complain. He remembers how long it took Dean and him to feel at home at Bobby’s- unwilling to trust, to relax. They’d been bounced around too much. It was hard to believe, right up until Bobby brought them the adoption papers, that the old man wanted them around, let alone wanted to keep them around. John was still alive at the time, but he’d gone off the grid and the judge ruled abandonment. The day the papers were finalized is still, even all these years later, the happiest day of Sam’s life.

A small part of him hopes that Tony and Mal will be able to experience the same thing.

He knows it’s not likely. Their dad will be out of prison within a few months and he’ll find some way to get the boys back. That’s what John did for years. The boys’ father is likely the way. Sam got their files from another office, a few counties over. They’ve been in and out of foster houses more times than he wants to count.

 _I don’t want them to go back to that man,_ Eileen tells him when he brings this up to her. They’re sitting side by side at her kitchen island, coffee in hand. It’s becoming a habit. Sam doesn’t mind one bit. _I know I haven’t been able to keep foster kids before, but these boys are different. They’re special. I won’t let them go easy._

 _I don’t expect you to,_ Sam replies with a fond smile. _But I have a feeling you’re going to have a fight on your hands._

_Well, he doesn’t know what he’s up against._

Sam chuckles. _No, he doesn’t. I’ll help you, Eileen. I’m on your side with this._

She nods, turning to peek around the doorway to the living room. The boys are playing together, talking quietly over the new Legos Eileen picked out for them. Tony is very patiently showing Mal how to read the instructions and put the pieces together.

 _They remind you of you and Dean, don’t they?_ she asks.

Sam sighs, turning back to his coffee. _Yeah, they do._

 _You don’t have to explain, not if you don’t want to, but if you do ever want to talk, you know where to find me._ Eileen flashes him a bright smile that makes his stomach flip.

 _Thanks,_ he says, moving his hand from his coffee cup to lay gently on her arm. _I really appreciate it._

The contact has them both flushing warm, a shy smile on her face. Sam’s not even sure why he’d needed to touch her, or why he couldn’t stop himself, so he retracts his hand. Eileen’s hand chases his and there’s a current zapping through them when their fingers lace, both of their hearts beating a little harder and a little faster. A sharp cry from the living room breaks the spell between them and has Sam on his feet in a second. Eileen follows suit, watching him with concern. Sam hurries to where the boys are playing, Eileen right behind him, and finds Mal sitting on the couch, whimpering softly while Tony plants a kiss to the bottom of his little brother’s chubby foot.

“There,” the older brother says. “Better?”

Mal nods, sniffling and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Betta.”

“You gotta be careful where you’re walkin’, Mal.”

“What happened?” Eileen asks, sitting beside Mal on the couch and wrapping an arm around his little body.

“Mal stepped on a Lego,” Tony explains, holding up the offending toy.

“Tony kissed i’ betta,” Mal says, looking up at her. “Is okay now.”

Eileen nods, gently smoothing her fingers through his hair. “Tony’s a good big brother, huh?”

Yeah. Sam’s going to do everything in his power to make sure the boys stay this time.

* * *

 

Sam and Eileen have both been asked to attend Dirk Rollen’s hearing, to testify about the treatment of Tony and Malcolm. The lawyer, Anna Milton, wanted the boys there, too, but Eileen didn’t think it was a good idea. Judge Turner has known Eileen for years and he values her opinion, so Eileen calls up an old friend, Mildred, and asks her to watch the boys for the day.

 _Nervous?_ Eileen asks, reaching up to fix the collar of Sam’s shirt.

He shakes his head. _Nah. I’ve done stuff like this more times than I can count. I know the drill. You?_

 _A little,_ she admits. _I’ve been to a lot of these, too, but I still get anxious. And this time I have a lot more riding on it._

_Everything’s going to work out fine. Turner is the best judge for these cases. Did you know he oversaw my dad’s hearing?_

_I didn’t know that, no._

_You’ve seen him work. There’s no one better for this case._

_I feel much better now. Thank you._

* * *

 

Things go about how Sam expected. Their lawyer, Anna Milton, is an expert at cases like this. So is the defendant's lawyer, Fergus McLeod. He’s a big name lawyer with nationwide cases under his belt, but he likes to do local pro bono work, specifically in custody cases for single fathers. Sam understands it- sometimes the case is a load of shit, where a nosy neighbor without full understanding of the situation made accusations or something like that. Sometimes, though, the case isn’t a load of shit. McCloud may be a slimy son of a bitch, but he does not stand for child abuse of any kind. Sam knows Anna asked for the doctor that check the boys over to give a statement. Once McCloud sees that evidence, he’ll change his tune.

Dirk Rollen is a disgusting man, in Sam’s opinion. He gets a sentence into his statement and Eileen has to forcefully uncurl Sam’s fingers. There are little red crescents marking his palm, and she tangles her fingers with his so he won’t make himself bleed.

Once Rollen has made his statement and Anna has asked her questions, they move on. Sam and Eileen give their statements. They mostly want to know what happened from Sam’s arrival at the house to the boys’ placement, and then what he has observed since they started living with Eileen. Sam answers all the questions to the best of his ability.

Eileen is next. Being both their foster mother and a children’s counselor, she has a unique perspective to offer. Sam already knew Turner was on their side, but he can see McCloud swaying as well. The statement of the doctor solidifies things. She presents x-rays that show badly healed broken bones from both boys. Sam bites the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood. Eileen lays a gentle hand on his knee and he takes a deep breath, forcing his jaw to unclench.

Rollen’s case is not looking good at all by the time they finish up for the day. Eileen can see it, too, and she’s much more relaxed when they leave the courthouse.

 _Lunch?_ Sam asks, trying not to seem too eager.

 _Sure_ , Eileen replies. She’s zipping up her jacket. _Mildred said she would keep the boys for at least another hour._

_Great. I know a really nice little cafe just up the street. You might like it._

She nods. _Alright. Let’s go._

Sam grins and offers her his arm. She fixes her gloves and puts one hand in the crook of his elbow. Her hand is small, delicate, but strong. Solid. He likes it.

* * *

 

Eileen’s not surprised at all when they get the news that Rollen will be spending a few years in prison and that custody of his sons has been rescinded completely. It’s still some of the best news she’s heard since the boys first moved in with her. She hasn’t had them more than a few weeks, but she already knows she wants them to stay as long as possible. Preferably forever, if they want to.

She wants Sam to stay, too, and at this rate it seems like he just might. He skype calls her up one morning and asks her to go to dinner with him. As soon as the laptop closes, she can’t help a little happy dance in her chair. Mal “helps” her pick out her dress and Tony answers the door with a serious look on his face. He brightens up when he sees the flowers Sam brought for Eileen and the box of little green plastic army men for the boys. Sam meekly accepts the lecture Tony gives him, about how to treat Eileen good and hold all the doors and have her home by midnight. Eileen kisses both of the boys on their heads and gets their promises that they’ll be good for Mildred, who offered to babysit again.

Sam takes her to one of the nicest restaurants in town. Eileen’s been on dates, but never to a fancy restaurant like this. Sam is also, by far, one of, if not _the_ most attentive dates she’s ever had. He asks questions about her and then actually pays attentions to her answers.

It’s nice. It’s really, really nice. She wants to experience it as many times as possible.

* * *

 

“Sam likes you,” Tony tells her.

They’re across from each other at the kitchen island. Mal is napping and Eileen is taking the time to get started on dinner. Right now Tony is dutifully mixing together cinnamon and sugar in a little bowl to put in the cake batter Eileen is mixing.

“He does, huh?” she asks.

“Uh-huh.” Tony is nodding, looking up at her. “You guys went on a date, right?”

“A date?”

“Yeah, where you go to dinner and talk and he holds the door open. I saw one in a movie.”

Eileen can’t help a fond smile. “Well, when you put it like that, I guess we have been on some dates.”

“If he takes you on dates, it means he likes you.”

“What about you? Do you like Sam?”

Tony ponders that a moment and then nods. “Yeah. I like Sam. He’s nice and he helps us. He’s like the way my dad was before Mom died.”

Those words alone are enough to break Eileen’s heart- knowing that Tony remembers a time when things weren’t so bad.

“When did your mom die?” she asks, keeping her voice gentle, inviting. Letting Tony know he doesn’t have to talk, but he can if he wants to.

“When I was four,” Tony tells her. “Mal was just a baby. He doesn’t remember.”

Eileen sets down the pan she’s greasing. “But you remember.”

Tony nods. “I remember.”

“Wanna tell me what she was like?”

Tony sets the spoon down- the cinnamon sugar is now thoroughly mixed- and leans his elbows on the counter. That face he makes that is all too telling of how fast he had to grow up settles on his little features, aging him as he stares off for a moment, completely focused on what he can only see in his young mind. “She was beautiful,” he finally says. His voice is stronger than Eileen expects it to be- not as quiet or sad or broken as it probably should be for a kid talking about something so heavy; that’s just Tony. “And she loved me. I know she loved me a lot. She loved Mal a lot, too.” His eyes are thoughtful as he gazes up at Eileen. “You remind me of her.”

She feels a blush coloring her cheeks. “I do?”

“Yeah. I hope you can stay.”

That feels like a knife to Eileen’s chest. “I want to stay, Tony. I’ll do my best to stay.”

He nods solemnly, far too serious for a boy his age. “Good.”

* * *

 

Things are far too perfect, in Sam’s opinion. He and Eileen are getting along well- he kissed her two dates ago and it was everything he could have dreamed of, and now things are just getting better. The boys are healing, it seems. They hardly have nightmares anymore. Tony is getting good grades in school and Mal has friends down the street he likes to play with, and everything is just so… perfect.

Too perfect.

He’s not surprised when something goes wrong, unfortunately. In his experience, nothing ever lasts. He just wasn’t expecting this.

“Eileen, Eileen, calm down,” he says, gripping her shoulders tight. She lifts her head to meet his gaze. “Deep breaths. Tell me what happened.”

They’re standing in the middle of the police station, surrounded by officers rushing into action while Eileen struggles not to hyperventilate.

“Talk to me,” Sam says firmly, his hands on her upper arms squeezing and shaking her a little so the force of it jolts her eyes up to his. “Tell me what happened.”

“I… I was at my office and Jo called, and she said that… that Dirk got out. He got out, Sam. How did he get out?” her eyes are wide, terrified, and it’s breaking Sam’s heart because there’s nothing he can do. “And I drove as fast as I could to Tony’s school and the receptionist- God, what was she _thinking?_ \- she said Tony’s dad came and got him, and then I went to Mal’s school, and he’s gone too, and- and I came here, and now I can’t- can’t do anything. I need to do something.”

“Hey, hey-” Sam pulls her to his chest- “I’ve got you.” He knows she can’t hear him, but she tucks her head against his chest and lifts one hand up to press against his throat. He noses into her hair. “It’s gonna be okay. Jo and the others will find them and bring them home to us. Everything will work out fine. You’ll see.”

He’s not sure who he’s trying to reassure more- Eileen or himself.

* * *

 

The police station is a beacon in the night that has fallen over the town. Sam is sitting in Jo’s office, on the couch she keeps there for naps and when Charlie visits her at work. Eileen is lying sideways on the couch, head in his lap. She wore herself out emotionally and Sam’s glad she’s asleep now, even if he can see her eyes darting back and forth beneath her lids. He’s struggling to stay awake himself, but he has to wait for word. He needs to stay alert in case the boys need him.

“S’m?” Sleepy brown eyes blink up at him.

“Shhh,” he soothes, stroking her hair. She smiles, a gentle thing that makes his stomach flutter. _Sleep_ , he signs.

“Any news?” she asks.

He shakes his head. _Not yet._

She sighs and turns her face into his belly. “I miss them.”

Sam tracings fingers down her cheek. He knows. He misses the boys, too, and they haven’t even been gone a full day without them.

“If… if we get them back, I want to adopt them,” Eileen tells him. “Then no one can take them away ever again.”

“When,” Sam corrects, tilting her face to see his hands. _When_.

She sniffs and sits up to burrow into his shirt again. “When,” she murmurs, more to herself than anyone else. “When.”

* * *

 

Two days. Sam knows the odds are getting worse by the minute, but he has to stay hopeful, for Eileen’s sake. The woman is a mess, to put it gently. He brings her to his home so she doesn’t have to stay by herself in an empty house surrounded by the boys’ things. The change in scenery helps a little, distracts her. She finally meets Dean, but Sam can’t tell if seeing the grown version of Tony helps or makes it worse. Either way, Cas and Dean and Meg are all gracious and welcome her in. There’s five people there, now, but the house is big enough for them to keep their distance, coming and going quietly so as not to spook or overwhelm her. It’s a gesture she and Sam are thankful for.

Sam had hoped the first time they shared a bed would be under very different circumstances, but none of that is important anymore. He wants to be out helping with the search, but he can’t, so he pours all his nervous energy into taking care of Eileen. It helps keep him distracted.

At night, she curls against his chest and cries herself to sleep, her sobs dying out as her resolve to stay awake does. Only when he’s sure she won’t wake does Sam allow his own tears to fall. He’ll never know that she can feel him shaking, that she can feel the wet drops on his face in her sleep.

It’s past midnight the second day when Jo finally calls with something that isn’t more of the same. She tells them there’s a lead on Rollen and the boys down south. Eileen insists on going to the station, despite the late hour and how little they can do, and they end up right back where they started- on Jo’s couch, waiting for news they’re not sure will ever come.

* * *

 

They’ve been there for several hours when Dean arrives, bearing coffee and breakfast sandwiches from the diner down the street, on his way to the station with Meg and a coworker they carpool with, Benny Lafitte.

“How are you doing?” the older Winchester asks. It’s around five in the morning. Eileen is asleep again, face tucked against Sam’s shoulder. Her back is going to be sore when she wakes up, but Sam can’t bare to bother her.

Sam gratefully takes the coffee Dean offers him. There’s a coffee machine in the station, but he knows from experience that the coffee sucks. Besides, he’s pretty trapped at the moment. “Okay, I guess. We haven’t heard anything in hours. I think I’m kinda numb by this point. I’m just glad Eileen is sleeping. She’s taking it much harder than I am.”

“Of course. Those are her boys. Cas, Meg, and I still haven’t met them, by the way, so you’d better bring the whole family home for dinner when they’re back.” Dean gives Sam his patented “don’t argue with me on this” look.

Sam manages a small smile. “Okay. We can do that.”

“Good. Take care of that woman or I’ll have to kick your ass.” Dean nods at Eileen. “I’ve got to get to work, but let me know if you hear anything.”

“I will. Say hi to Meg and Benny for me.”

Eileen stirs moments after Dean leaves, probably revived by the smell of coffee nearby. Sam’s glad Dean dropped off a cup for her, too.

“Coffee?” she asks, nuzzling against his chest.

He waves the cup under her nose and she hums happily, sitting up and reaching for it with grabby hands. Once she’s got coffee in hand, she perks up a bit. The sight makes Sam’s chest burn a little warmer than before.

“News?” she mumbles between sips.

He shakes his head, tightening his arm around her waist, and feels a stab in his heart when her face falls. Eileen leans against him.

“I feel useless,” she says.

Sam is about to agree with her when Jo appears in the doorway, knocking softly to get his attention. Eileen follows his gaze and shoots to her feet.

“What’s going on?” Eileen demands, coffee still clutched tight to her chest. “No one’s told us anything.”

“We found the boys,” Jo says. “Their father is in custody, but we need Sam’s help.”

Sam is on his feet now, too, breakfast food forgotten on the desk. “Whatever I can do.”

The tiny officer beckons for him to follow her. He grabs Eileen’s hand and tugs her along behind him. She holds on tight.

Jo drives them to the airport a few towns over, using her lights to get them their in half the time it would usually take. From there they take a helicopter- to where, Sam has no clue, but it must not be too far otherwise they would take a plane. Eileen clings tight to him the entire flight, eyes squeezed shut. Sam’s knee bounces uncontrollably. Once they land, another officer drives them to a motel.

The motel is rundown and should’ve probably been condemned years ago, and the lot is full of law enforcement vehicles. There’s an ambulance off to one side, but they don’t seem to be in any kind of hurry, which is reassuring. Sam thinks he spots Dirk in the back of one of the police cruisers, but ignores him in favor of following another officer into one of the motel rooms. There are more important things he needs to be focusing on.

“Tony locked them both in the bathroom,” the officer explains. “We can’t get him to open the door.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Sam assures him.

Sam quickly explains the situation to Eileen before dropping to one knee in front of the locked door. He knocks softly.

“Tony?” he calls. “It’s Sam and Eileen.”

A moment of silence, then the lock clicks and the door is flung open. A small body barrels into Sam’s chest, almost knocking him flat on his back. An even smaller body flies past to practically scale Eileen. She crumples to her knees, dropping heavy and relieved, clutching Mal tight against her and sobbing uncontrollably into his tiny shoulder. The four-year-old seems to be crying just as hard, but Sam’s focus is on Tony’s trembling body in his arms.

“You came,” Tony chokes out. “I was so scared you would never find us.”

“Of course I did,” Sam murmurs, rubbing the boy’s back soothingly. “I’ll always come for you. No matter how far you go, I’ll always find you.”

Tony lifts his head to reveal a bruised cheekbone and black eye, and Sam swallows down his own tears. “Thank you, Sam.”

Sam and Eileen get the boys outside and into the back of an ambulance. Mal has bruises all over his little body, but Tony clearly took the brunt of their father’s anger. He was probably protecting his little brother the best he could. Sam feels proud of him for that, but sad that Tony was forced into that situation.

“Wanna tell us what happened?” he asks while an EMT bandages a series of small cuts on Tony’s arm.

“Do I have to?” Tony asks.

“Only if you want to. It would really help make sure your father goes away for a long time, but we can talk about it later.”

Tony nods. “Okay. I just wanna go home right now.”

Sam smiles fondly and pets the boy’s hair. “We can do that.”

* * *

 

Despite their trauma, the brothers are overjoyed to be able to ride in a helicopter. Normally they would take a plane, but Eileen suggested that the helicopter might help them feel a little better. Mal in particular has been awfully quiet, tucking himself against Eileen’s side and sniffling softly into the hem of her shirt. Now he’s perked up a little and is staring out the window, listening intently as Tony asks the pilot dozens of questions.

Eileen reaches over and takes Sam’s hand, watching the boys intently. “Thank you,” she murmurs, leaning her head against his shoulder.

He kisses the top of her head.

* * *

 

When they land, they go straight to Eileen’s house. The boys cling to Sam and Eileen’s hands, shying away from anyone else who approaches. They have to go to the station at some point and give their official statements, but Eileen wants to wait a couple days so she can help the boys process what happened before they’re faced with a million question. Sam agrees with her- she is the expert, both on children in stressful situations and on these boys in particular. She knows what they can handle better than Sam does, at least.

The boys are quiet, which Sam understands. He heats some soup from a can on the stove while Eileen helps them get cleaned up. When they’re all settled around the table with their steaming bowls, Sam feels like things are going to maybe be okay.

Tony and Mal perk up more once they have food in their systems, which is a good sign. When he’s done eating, Mal climbs up in Sam’s lap and curls against his chest, yawning.

“Wanna go to bed?” Sam asks, petting the young boys hair.

“Uh-huh,” Mal mumbles. Tony is nodding and rubbing his eyes.

“Come on,” Eileen coos.

She takes Tony’s hand and leads him down the hall. Sam cradles Mal to his chest and follows. Together, they get both boys into their PJs and brush their teeth. Mal is practically asleep by the time Sam tucks him into his bed. Before Eileen can get Tony into his bed, the older brother bolts across the room and climbs up onto Mal’s mattress, tucking himself against the smaller boy’s side. Sam and Eileen let him- for years, these two could only rely on each other. Now, they go back to each other even though they have other people to rely on.

Sam understands.

Eileen lingers by their room after the boys are asleep, peeking through the crack in the door and watching the little bodies snuggled together. Sam stays by her, one arm around her waist and his chin resting on top of her head, until she’s ready to move, and even then she doesn’t go far. They end up settled on the couch in the living room, her smaller body fitted neatly under his arm and against his side.

 _Thank you_ , she signs, head tilted up so she can see his face.

 _Anything for you and the boys_ , he tells her.

Her cheeks go pink and she ducks her head a little. He kisses her forehead.

 _Eileen_ , he says. _I know we haven’t been together long and this might be sudden, but I need you to know. I love you._

Her breath catches in her chest and her eyes go wide.

 _I love you,_ Sam repeats. _And I love the boys. You and Tony and Mal are the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. Thank you for letting me into your life. There’s nowhere else I would rather be._

 _Sam,_ she sighs, reaching up with one hand to brush back his hair. _I love you, too. Thank you, for bringing me Tony and Mal. For helping me take care of them. For supporting me through everything._

_I would do it all over again._

She stretches up to kiss him, slender fingers running through his hair. He holds her close and kisses her back, allowing himself to just enjoy the closeness of his girlfriend. Eventually, she yawns into the kiss, making him laugh and encourage her to rest a little. It’s not long before she falls asleep, head on his chest. He doesn’t mind. Something about this just feels so _right_ and Sam never wants to leave.

* * *

 

_Six Months Later_

Tony pushes his glasses up his nose, shifting nervously from side to side. Sam wants to laugh, but he forces it down in lieu of what he hopes is a reassuring smile as he ties the boy’s bow tie.

“You’re gonna be great,” he tells the kid. “All you have to do is hold Charlie’s hand and walk down the aisle, just like we practiced yesterday. You did great yesterday.”

“I’m nervous for you,” Tony says, a little too honestly. The kid is so grown up, it’s funny, until you remember why. Tugging at the sleeves of his little tuxedo jacket, Sam smiles. He looks adorable in the miniature copy of the suits the groomsmen are wearing, and Sam knows Mal is even cuter.

Sam chuckles softly and ruffles his hair, which results in a pout and some frantic fixing. “I’ll be fine,” Sam assures him. “I’ve got you backing me up, right?”

Tony sets his shoulders firm, a little something he picked up from Dean sometime over the last six months. “Right.”

Speaking of Dean, Sam’s brother chooses that moment to poke his head into the room set aside for Sam. “Ready, guys?”

“Ready,” Tony says.

“Ready,” Sam echoes, getting to his feet and smoothing his suit. Suddenly he feels nervous- really, really nervous.

Dean notices. He crosses the room quickly to straighten Sam’s bow tie- which is exactly as it should be, seeing as Dean tied it himself earlier. “You’ve got this,” he says, brushing imaginary dust off of Sam’s shoulder.

“How are you so sure?” Sam asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“Because you’re my little brother.” Dean playfully punches Sam’s shoulder. “Might not have gotten all of my good looks, but you’re quite the catch, Sammy-boy.”

Sam can’t help a laugh at that, shaking his head fondly at his brother’s antics. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Go get her, big guy.”

Sam grins down at his brother, feeling much better, and nods when Dean shoots him a wink. “Okay.”

* * *

 

Standing at the front of the church, the nerves kick in all over again, but there’s nowhere for him to go and nothing he can do. Judge Turner would probably murder him if he ran now, and besides, he doesn’t want to run. He mostly just wants to puke.

The organ starts playing and everyone gets to their feet. Sam turns to see Dean and Eileen’s Maid of Honor, an older woman named Mildred, walking down the aisle. They’re followed by Tony and Charlie, then Gabriel and Jo. Next comes Mal, rings carried carefully on a small pillow until he reaches the front and hands them over to Dean, and then Eileen’s niece, a tiny little thing named Penelope who bounces more than walks down the aisle in her poofy purple dress, happily leaving a trail of flowers in her wake.

Since the death of her parents when she was a baby, Eileen had no one to walk her down the aisle. Sam’s adopted uncle/father figure, Bobby Singer, was more than happy to volunteer his services. He acts like a grumpy old man, but he’s a teddy bear on the inside and he has a soft spot for Eileen in particular. The older man looks good, all cleaned up in the suit he dug out of somewhere at the back of his closet and had adjusted by his wife, Ellen Harvelle, to accommodate the weight he’s recently lost. Nothing compares, however, to Eileen.

She’s dressed in a beautiful, floor-length, spaghetti strap white gown with embroidery covering the bodice, fading into a sheer mesh-like fabric that’s layered into a poofy skirt. Her veil is edged with the same embroidery, draped beautifully over her dark curls and bare shoulders. Overall, she’s the most beautiful thing Sam has ever laid eyes on, and a lump forms in his throat when he realizes she’s going to be his and he gets to be hers, _forever._

His vision goes blurry and Sam hastily wipes away the tears that are forming, feeling Dean’s supportive hand on his shoulder. Eileen is an angel as she kisses Bobby’s cheek and takes Sam’s hand, and Sam is the luckiest man alive.

The ceremony itself seems to fly by, but Sam clings to every detail. He wants to remember the way Eileen’s hands shake as she signs her vows, the tears in her eyes when he signs his own, the way she melts into his arms when Judge Turner signs _You may kiss the bride_. When they go to sign the marriage certificate later, just before the reception, there are two other sets of papers to sign and Sam is just as excited about these.

“Ready, guys?” Sam asks, crouching down by Tony and Mal.

“Weady,” Mal says firmly. He’s bouncing a little, the way he always does when he’s excited. Tony nods eagerly.

Sam picks Mal up, placing him on his hip so he can see what’s going on better. “Alright. Here we go.”

It seems like such a small thing, signing the papers, but Sam knows it’s the most important thing to these boys. When he’s done, he sets the pen aside and hug Mal to his chest.

“Does this mean I get to call you Dad now?” Mal asks, small arms looped around Sam’s neck.

“Yes, it does,” Sam tells him with tears in his eyes.

“Yay!” Tony beams up at Sam, clutching onto Eileen in his joy.

Oh, how these children look at him, and the way Eileen melts a little at the sight of all three of them together- _hers_ \- it’s enough to leave Sam choked up as Mal buries his face in Sam’s neck and smiles.

He whispers,“I love you, Dad.”

In that moment, every one of them is home.


End file.
